I've quit obsessing at how I detest the Clintons. I need to move on. . .
I love getting up before anyone else gets up. The quietness of the house is so serene. mm.
And I love Saturday mornings. "Love" is a strong word. When we lived in Brazil we found that that word was strictly used for strong affection between people. They would never-ever think of saying something like, "I love ice cream" or "I love Saturday mornings ."
I'm not in Brazil now, and I LOVE Saturday mornings, especially when everyone else in the house is asleep. It's not that I don't LOVE being with them when they are awake, I just LOVE time alone. . . with myself. I find there is something so therapeutic about solitude. I wouldn't want it all the time, then I might get lonely, but occasionally, like this morning, it is very sweet. mm.
I guess I'm needing the solitude more this week. I have a dear elderly mother. . . and being her only child now, well, I've had to do some taking care of her this week. On Wednesday she was taken by ambulance (!) to the hospital, with the fear that she was having another heart attack. Thankfully she wasn't! She had been lifting some boxes and evidently got some pains that were not unsimilar to heart attack pains. I'm so glad she had it all checked out . . . and got a good report. Whew!
That, and helping her with all the 'stuff' of life, has made me particularly enjoy this quiet, early morning.
Sometimes I sit and look at my surroundings as if they were a still life portrait/picture. It makes them seem more beautiful somehow. And it makes me think about what went on last in this room. Like how the guitar is kind of randomly set on the guitar case. And how the matching ottomans are lined up funny, and how Laura's guitar notebook has papers 'falling' out of it. It really is a dear thing - thinking about the activity in here last night.
Life is sweet . . . when I stop and notice it.
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